A Sprig of Holly
by Kira Regulus Black
Summary: A trio of one-shots dedicated to Christmas.  AU
1. O Little Town of Bethlehem

_A songfic dedicated to Christmas

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_

Oh little town of Bethlehem,

Lord Voldemort paused in his walking to contemplate the peaceful town. Snow covered roofs glistened in the soft light of the moon, hung low in the sky. He thought he could hear the echoes of a song.

_How still we see thee lie,_

The house was dark and quiet, its inhabitants long lost to slumber. His footsteps seemed deafening in comparison, the rustling of his robes like a gunshot. And interwoven throughout the house, the haunting carol continued. It was louder now. Clearer.

_Above thy deep and dreamless sleep,_

He gripped the door-handle, and it swung open on oiled hinges. A peaceful scene greeted him. The mother, exhausted, had fallen asleep over the cradle, her fiery hair falling softly in a curtain around her shoulders as she dreamed. He crossed the room noiselessly to the crib.

_The silent stars go by._

A black-haired baby stared up at him with his eerily glowing eyes. Emerald met crimson. Lord Voldemort stared back, emerald captivating him. Those eyes looked into his very soul, saw all he was, could be. They studied his very being, and he was unable to hide. Lord Voldemort looked into those eyes, and for the second time in his life, he was afraid.

_Yet in the darkness shineth,_

And he found them closing, to his relief. They blinked open again, and this time were bright, curious. The baby laughed, tugging at his dark robes. He found himself chuckling too, in a voice rusty from disuse. He squatted down to eye level, ruffling the baby's messy black hair. The baby gurgled happily.

_The everlasting light,_

"Yeah, you like that, don't you?"

The baby blew a spit bubble. Lord Voldemort smiled faintly, rising to his true height once more.

"Yes, you do that, brat."

_The hopes and fears,_

He made up his mind and walked to the door, turning back to gaze once more upon the darkened room. The emerald-eyed baby was now waving at him from his perch in the crib. On an impulse, he flicked his wand, transfiguring a small scrap of parchment on the floor to a Christmas-wrapped snitch.

_of all the years,_

"Merry Christmas, little one."

_Are met in thee tonight._

And the door shut silently behind him.


	2. Peace on the Earth

This story is dedicated to peace.

_Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth, peace, goodwill, towards men. Luke 2:14 -the Bible_

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Draco grinned evilly, rubbing his hands together as he snuck out of the Slytherin's dorms. It had taken a bit of pushing, but Blaise had given in easily enough. It was, after all, easy enough to overhear the Gryffindorks' common room password if one had a Gryffindor girlfriend. Especially one so close to the great Harry Potter as Granger.

Potter would pay. He had put up with dozens of 'ferret' comments over the years, tonight was to be his grand revenge. And so, with his pockets full of every imaginable prank and his wand in his hand, Draco slunk through the shadows silently to the Gryffindorks dorm.

"Mistletoe."

The Fat Lady snored as her portrait swung open gently. Draco sneered at her before climbing through. Some security. The bright red and gold leaped out at him through the gloom. In contrast, his Slytherin green blazer blended neatly into the shadows. They clashed horribly.

"Right is girls' dorm…" he half-mumbled to himself.

He faced the left staircase and determinedly began to climb. 5 minutes later, he stood panting at the top of the staircase, finally at his destination. The sounds of snores and gentle wheezing filled the darkened air as the occupants of the beds rested peacefully. Piles of presents lay at the foots of their beds, soon to be joyfully opened come morn.

Draco trod softly to the bunk on the far side of the room. No need to mess up now, not when he was so close. Standing before Potter's bed, he felt that heady feeling of glee more commonly known as 'victory'. Can you really blame him? Was it every night that you got to stand over your rival, knowing you are completely in control of their fate?

'_Now what should I do…'_

A glint of light caught his attention. Something was under Potter's pillow. Something metallic…

'_Is that… a picture frame? Since when does Potter have a picture frame under his pillow?' _

Draco smirked. Finally, something he could use to mortify the infuriating boy, like he'd been so many times. One did _not_ say no to a Malfoy. It wasn't even something you _thought_ about, if you wanted to live. He tugged the thin silver frame gently out from under the pillow and glanced at it.

'_What the…'_

Draco fumbled and dropped it onto his stockinged foot. It thudded quietly as it landed on the plush red-carpeted floor. Several tense seconds later, his heart stopped trying to jump out of his chest and Draco bent to pick it up with trembling fingers. He stared at it in the faint light of dawn.

'_It's… me?'_

Platinum blonde hair and mercury eyes sparked at him as the portrait-self waved frantically at him from it's perch on its broom, next to the snitch, at practice. He remembered the day. It had been a bright and sunny morning, and he had been so happy to be in the air… Where had Harry got the photograph from? He had been so sure no one was watching…

A gentle smile appeared as he watched Harry's soft breathing. Draco slid the picture-frame back under Harry's pillow and kissed his hair lightly, smoothing back a loose strand of hair from the famous scar. He made his way to the staircase and turned back towards the sleeping Gryffindor.

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

And he left.

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A/N: I'm basing this on the fact that Draco and Harry secretly like each other but don't show it to anyone, if you're confused. Christmas is supposed to be a time of peace. I felt this would be fitting. It seems that a lot of people get buried under the presents and advertising and miss what it truly is about. Please do your part and help spread a little more peace in the world today.


	3. The Ledge

_Dedicated to all those who spend their Christmas alone, may they find true Chrismas joy._

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Draco silently ghosted along the hallways, his lumos casting dancing shadows on the smooth stone walls worn from hundreds of children running their hands over it as the walked. It was Christmas, and as such, he passed some lonely ornament, a sprig of holly, a dusty string of lights, every so often.

He knew he should be in the Slytherin Commons, with the rest of the celebratory crowd. But his heart wasn't in it. It was too loud, too chaotic, too colorful, too joyful. He didn't have the heart to pretend to enjoy himself. He had stepped out for some 'fresh air,' but instead, had found his feet leading him here, to his favorite perch in Hogwarts.

It was a narrow stone slit in the stone walls, nearly invisible to passerby unless you looked just right. You could see the lake, and the forbidden forest. It was the best view in all Hogwarts. The stone window ledge was wide enough for two people, and you could hide there all day with no one to even notice your existence. Of course, questions would be asked when he got back, but that was life.

Draco had installed some wards to ensure he would never be rained, snowed, or sleeted on, and so he would never fall out, then moved right in. He highly suspected Hogwarts was helping to hide him from his classmates when they were looking for him.

His footsteps became faster as he approached the niche. And then he stopped dead, hastily extinguishing his lumos. There was someone in his spot. Another lumos shone gently in the gloom, illuminating a shadowy figure sprawled on the stone windowsill. Draco's heart fell. Someone else had found his hideaway. Now he needed another spot to hide from Pansy. Lovely. He had just turned to leave when a familiar voice spoke.

"Malfoy, quit lurking in the shadows. If you're going to sit, sit already."

Draco stepped into the dancing light from the lumos. He could see the figure clearly now, and he hid his surprise, deftly slipping into his practiced mask.

"Potter." he replied, his voice neutral.

The other sighed.

"Can't we stop fighting for a day, Malfoy? It's Christmas, after all."

Draco considered. It wouldn't hurt. Certainly no one else was around to witness him, God forbid, being _nice_.

"I accept."

He sat down gingerly on the ledge. Together, they watched the clouds hurl snow down and blow it in swirls of white across the desolate landscape. It was strangely quiet, the snow dampening any sound that might have echoed. Only the lumos, flickering and dieing, showed any sign of time passing. Still they sat in darkness, as if waiting for something.

"My relatives hate me."

Draco jumped at the soft voice, his gaze flicking away from the snow. Potter was still staring out at the storm. He knew he was being showed something personal, and that Potter would run at the slightest sign of him rejecting him. He stared back out at the storm, his ears straining to hear that soft voice.

"They hate me. They've always hated me. I'm a freak, an abomination- or I would be if they could use that long of a word."

Silence fell again.

"They beat me, they say, to get the freakishness out of me." His soft voice now held tinges of bitterness and hate.

"I sit here, and I think, it's not me. Maybe it's them. They just like to do this to me, it's their idea of fun." his voice rose with anger. "Or it's just me! Me, D'you hear? Me!" he screamed out at the storm, bolting up and slamming his fist into the wall next to his head.

"Potter, sit down."

Harry sat.

"If you're really as worthless as you think, would you be here? At Hogwarts? Would you be the Boy-Who-Lived? Who's defeated V-Voldemort twice?"

"That's the problem! That's not me!"

Draco mentally sighed. Comforting people was Pansy's specialty, not his. Heck, _Granger _would be better at this than he was. Consigning himself to tears, he plowed on.

"Would I bother with you? Would you have survived Voldemort? Twice? And don't tell me you didn't. Would the Goblet have drawn your name? Would you even have lasted this long?"

Harry laughed through the tears. "You prat. The world doesn't revolve around you, you know."

Draco felt something inside him warm.

"Yeah. I know."

They sat in silence for a while longer.

"I should probably be getting back. Pansy will go ballistic if she finds I'm gone."

Harry smiled but remained sitting, staring out at the swirling snow once more.

"Yeah. You do that."

Draco took a few steps away, his lumos lit, before looking back over his shoulder at Harry. The black-haired boy was still staring out at the flurries.

"Merry Christmas." he whispered.

"Merry Christmas." he heard. He smiled.


End file.
